Gioco di potere
by warohl
Summary: "I am not your sweetheart. I will never be your sweetheart, or anyone else's for that matter." She was untouchable; the cold bitch men warned each other to stay away from. But no one accused Tommy DeVito of being a genius… movie-verse Tommy/OC.
1. i-vi

**Hey guys! So this is something I've been working on since January, and I haven't finished it yet, but I thought that posting some of it would motivate me to finish writing. I initially didn't want to make this a multichapter fic, but as I kept writing I realized just how long this would be and decided it needed to be separated to make reading easier.**

**Please rate, review, etc! I'd love to hear back because this story is very special to me and I want to see how it fares!**

* * *

i.

She sat at the bar one Saturday night, drinking a glass of whiskey and paying no attention to the people around her. Her expression was cool and indifferent as she looked over the crowd of people, only changing to become unkind if anyone even looked at her the wrong way. Her posture looked relaxed, but somehow prepared to jump up and be firm if necessary. She was tough, that much was obvious; tough and cold and no bullshit.

Tommy caught himself staring from his spot on the stage. Maybe he had seen her around before, he couldn't be sure—she didn't stand out from the rest of the girls in the Newark area, so it's not as if he'd remember her. But for some reason, he just couldn't look away. She wasn't more beautiful than the other girls here, yet it was as if she was calling all his attention to her. Maybe it was the underlying glare always present in her eyes, or the contrasting hint of a smirk on her red lips. Maybe it was the way she drank her whiskey, or the way her dress clung to her chest, or the disinterested air around her. Whatever the hell it was, it kept getting Tommy to look back at her.

And when her light eyes would meet his, it was almost as if her gaze grew harder. Tommy didn't know the girl, didn't have a reason to warrant any harshness, but it didn't stop her. He found it amusing, to put it simply—it was like she was trying to reject him before he got the chance to make an effort.

But just as quick as their eyes met, she was looking away again, her indifference continuing. She went back to drinking her whiskey and people watching, all the while Tommy kept having to drag his gaze elsewhere. He didn't know why he'd be remotely interested in her, especially when there were other girls around vying for his attention. Tommy wasn't a man looking for a challenge, he just wanted some good sex.

And yet, a part of him kept wondering throughout the night:_ "who is she?"_

ii.

He asks Nick after the show if he knows the girl, "the girl who looks ready to kill anyone who even looks at her wrong." Nick had looked out at the crowd and couldn't help the slight chuckle that escaped him once his eyes found her.

"Don't even botha, Tommy," He said simply, "she'll rip your throat out."

But that still left his questions unanswered. _Who_ was the girl? Nick shook his head at the unsatisfied expression on Tommy's face, and went back to packing up the instruments.

After they had lugged everything out to the car, Tommy started back for the club, telling his bandmates he wanted a quick drink. Of course, Nick didn't believe him, but what could he do?

Tommy stood in the entryway for a few moments as he looked around the room, eyes scanning for the indifferent girl. She was no longer at the bar, and he couldn't find a trace of her anywhere. But since he was here, he leaned against the worn, wooden bar top and asked for a drink. He couldn't help but glance from his left to his right, eyebrow raised as he wondered where she disappeared to. He caught sight of an empty glass some ten feet away, red lipstick staining the rim. For a few long moments, he stared at the glass, wondering why he even gave two shits about who she was.

Tommy downed his drink and left the bar before they could realize he didn't pay. After tomorrow, he'd forget this girl anyway.

iii.

It was another two weeks before he saw her again. The Variatones were performing at the same club, and there she was again, lipstick still red and eyes still harsh. At first, Tommy hadn't even noticed her—since that night two weeks ago, he had almost forgotten about the girl. But as soon as his eyes spotted her, now sitting at a small corner table, he was wondering about her all over again.

Tommy tried to keep from staring. One: because he couldn't understand why he cared so much, two: because he didn't want to be on the receiving end of that glare. Of course, he stole glances, he couldn't help himself from looking back, a part of him hoping maybe she was also staring at him. She wasn't. She was never staring, it was as if he and the stage didn't even exist. She acted like she didn't care, and it frustrated a dumb part of him.

He had to reason with himself—why did he give a shit at all? What made him want her attention more than the next woman's?

Because he wasn't getting any at all.

All they had was a stolen glare from two weeks ago. That was it, nothing else, and that's what irritated him. Tommy got enough attention from a lot of other women, he was used to the pretty girls eying him just as much as he did them. But this one didn't, and it got to him more than he expected it would.

They played their set like usual, Frankie's performance stealing some of the attention the rest had itched for. Including the attention for the glaring woman in the back corner, though it was brief and almost unnoticeable. But of course Tommy saw, of course he caught her gaze changing from harsh to interested, at least for a moment. For a few fleeting seconds, he caught her lost in the music, and he couldn't stop the small, triumphant smirk from gracing his lips. She had allowed her eyes to stop glaring and her lips to stop frowning as she sat and listened.

But quickly, her default expression came back, and Tommy frowned at the cause. A man had approached her, a flirtatious grin on his lips as he spoke. The guitarist refrained from glaring, because he kept telling himself she had no reason to matter and he had no reason to care. But he watched with curiosity, at least from the corner of his eye. Though he couldn't read lips, he could tell the conversation (or lack thereof) was going nowhere—the man tried to flirt, and immediately she'd shut him down.

The man was growing frustrated, but it only seemed to amuse her; now, she was grinning, mocking the man as she dismissed him. The man tried again, but was only met with the same response as before. After one final try, Tommy saw her amusement turn to anger as her eyes were glaring harsher than ever before. He couldn't be sure what she said, but it got the other man walking posthaste.

Annoyingly so, Tommy was more curious than he had been before. He wanted to know why she was this way, and what she was capable of doing. He didn't like this growing interest he had, but he couldn't help himself from wondering.

As the Variatones were leaving the stage, he stole another look her way to find she was already looking back at him. Or, rather, just looking at the band. Her eyes had jumped from one member to the next, until they landed on Tommy. Though she always seemed to have a glare in her gaze, it didn't harshen when her eyes settled on him. She remained indifferent, at least to the best of her ability. He didn't give her a grin or a nod, but he had opened his mouth slightly, as if he wanted to tell her something. (Though he wasn't sure what he'd want to say or why he thought about speaking since she was across the room). And a part of him was certain that the corner of her mouth turned up just a little before they both had turned away.

iv.

Tommy had missed his chance to talk to her.

It had been another month since he last saw the glaring girl, and he found that, this time, he couldn't forgot. Whether they were performing at a different club or the one where he first saw her, Tommy always caught himself looking around for her. At first, he had tried to tell himself he was just looking at the audience for his next lay, but he realized that he was searching for her harsh gaze.

He hated himself for it. He hated that he let himself become so interested in a girl he didn't know. Hell, he didn't even become interested in girls he did know. He only spent time with women for one thing, and one thing only, so why was he more curious in knowing her name than in knowing how she was in bed?

He wouldn't admit it to anyone. He didn't want anyone to know that Tommy DeVito was stuck on a girl. Honestly, he wouldn't say he was even stuck on her, but he was more than a little interested.

Tommy reasoned that he'd forget. He always forgets them, eventually. So, over the course of the month without seeing her, he tried to forget. It would work, sometimes. It wasn't as if he was caught up on the girl and thought about her constantly, but sometimes he'd randomly remember her lipstick stained glass or her triumphant smirk or the way her dress hugged her breasts. The thoughts were fleeting, coming and going more quickly than a blink. But nonetheless, he was still remembering her.

It was one night, the band was back at a club, getting a couple drinks before they went on. They were all relaxed, making light conversation with each other and a few patrons. Tommy himself was leaned up against the counter, flirting with a pretty blonde girl who was already smitten with him. He gave her his full attention, using charming smiles and little comments to keep her interested.

He stole a glance up to see where his bandmates were when he spotted her again. It had been so long, he assumed he wouldn't find her again. Yet there she was, as alluring and aggravated as ever. For a moment, he found himself staring at her rather than looking back at the girl right in front of him. She had yet to notice him as she spoke to—who he assumed was—a friend before turning to the bar and ordering a drink, hopping up slightly to sit in the stool that was a little too tall for her. Her friend sat down beside her, the two sharing a slight laugh at a comment one made. The blonde in front of Tommy noticed his attention had drifted as he stared somewhere past her.

She spoke up, trying to regain his attention. All he had to say was that he needed to talk with the band, and so he walked away. He went to stand with his friends, eyes rarely leaving the mysterious woman. She sat with her drink in hand, eyes never leaving her friend's face as the two conversed. Tommy watched her profile, realizing that she wasn't glaring at all—she was relaxed, smiling, _laughing_. This was a whole new side of her.

"Tommy, what's with you?" Nick's voice had interrupted his thoughts, causing him to look back at the band, "Why ya still care about her?"

"I don't." He defended quickly, "Don't even know her name."

"Then why don't you go find it out?" Frankie asked, looking between the two men though he didn't know who exactly they were talking about.

Nick pointed a finger in Tommy's face, "Don't, I warned ya about her."

Tommy glared slightly, eyebrow raised as he looked from the finger in his face up at Nick's serious gaze. He pushed the other man hands down, "Cool it, Nicky; what could possibly go wrong if I did try, huh?"

"I've heard from other guys that she's a bitch, rejects everyone that ever approaches her—she doesn't care about anything a man has to say." Tommy gave him a doubtful look.

"You heard this, huh? From who?"

"Guys just like you, Tommy."

At that, his gaze darkened a little, "Oh, and what's that supposed to mean?"

Nick held his hands up defensively, "You know exactly what I mean. Now forget about her."

"Just tell me one thing," Tommy started, looking back around to stare at the woman for a few brief moments, "what's her name?"

Now, both Nick and Frankie gazed at the woman in discussion, and the first let out a sigh, "Last name's Airaldi—never actually heard anyone call her by her first name."

_Airaldi_. Tommy let the name roll around in his head a bit as he continued to watch her. He wouldn't say it fit her—it just didn't sound like the right last name for the type of woman she was. It wasn't harsh, but soft; not threatening, but easy. It didn't suit her at all. Now, he wondered if her first name was the same way.

v.

After their performance, Tommy finally found himself drifting toward the Airaldi woman, much to Nick's protest. At first, he didn't even realize he was heading her way, but suddenly his legs were moving at their own accord. She was still sat in the barstool, looking out at the crowd of people and a drink in hand like there always seemed to be. Her friend had disappeared to the bathroom, Tommy assumed, giving him the perfect opportunity. And then her eyes finally fell on Tommy, and for a moment she stopped. Her stare followed him carefully, watching with slight interest as he moved. At meeting her gaze, Tommy could see just how difficult she'd be, and a part of him wondered why he even wanted to try. But then she quirked her eyebrow and there was another smirk teasing at her lips, and he realized that he had to at least talk to her.

So, Tommy put on his signature smug look, and finally he was stood right next to her, leaning against the bar top. She looked into his eyes with that harsh expression, and he realized her eyes were green, something he didn't expect (though he wasn't sure why it mattered). For a moment, Tommy caught himself just staring at her.

Then, he became his typical self, an underlying tone of mischief and danger in his gaze, "What'd ya think of the show?" He started, and, again, he thought he saw the hint of a smirk on her lips. But, looking back at her eyes, they remained difficult to read.

She licked her lips quickly and let her eyes wander back toward his band, "That kid's got some talent." And God, her voice was something—it was husky, a little throaty, and nothing like what he expected. But Tommy found himself interested in even her voice.

"Yeah, that Frankie's really got something." He responded, never letting the grin leave his face, "And the rest of us?"

She let out a "_hmm_" that sounded almost like a laugh, "Nothin' special." She said it so plainly and so jeeringly, making Tommy scoff.

"Oh, you think so?" His brows had furrowed slightly, but he maintained a cool composure. All the woman did was raise her eyebrow and stare at him. Tommy bit the inside of his cheek for a moment, as his dark eyes stared into hers, before smiling confidently again, "Tommy DeVito."

The woman looked him up and down quickly, "I don't care who you are." She was so straightforward in everything she said, and it cut Tommy down quickly, "I'm also not interested."

"Sweetheart, you don't even know why I'm talking to you."

And then she laughed, a real laugh that turned into a mocking one, "I am _not_ your _sweetheart_." She glared at him, "I will never be your sweetheart, or anyone else's for that matter. I don't even remotely care why you say you're talking to me, because I already know why."

Now, Tommy was glaring back, growing frustrated with her, "So, it's true, you do shoot down every guy that tries, huh?"

"Oh, hun, of course I do." Her tone was amazingly condescending, and yet Tommy couldn't help but remain amused, even as she practically insulted him. She turned away from him then, certain that her efforts would make him walk away in annoyance.

"But I'm your hun?" She couldn't mask the slight surprise that crossed her features as she peered back at him, "You're not my sweetheart, but I'm your hun?" He repeated, giving her a ridiculing glare. Her rich, red lips were a straight line as she stared, trying to figure out something to say back to him. Usually, she could get a man to walk away within a minute, but it seemed like she'd need to use more effort with this idiot.

She continued to stare when she realized she didn't know what to say. Tommy could see in her eyes that she was trying to think of _something_ to say, but he could also see how she was drawing a blank. So, he gave her another large, assertive grin, making her eyes narrow even more.

And then she stood, throwing some cash on the counter, "I have better places to be than spending time with you, _sweetheart_." She whipped around and began walking for the door, her heels clicking firmly on the ground.

"Nice talking with you. And don't forget about your friend, _hun_." Tommy called after her, and he couldn't hold back the triumphant expression that crossed his features when he saw her freeze momentarily. He watched as she walked to the door, noticing how—even now, when he was certain she was frustrated—she still walked with such confidence and self-assurance and grace.

Tommy walked back to his bandmates, still grinning largely.

"What you so happy about, she rejected you?" Frankie questioned him, having watched some of the scene unfold in front of him.

"I told ya so, Tommy." Nick added.

But Tommy looked smug and amused and confident, "That Airaldi girl has met her match…"

vi.

She wasn't there the next time they were at the club. Of course she wasn't. And Tommy just knew it was his fault. That thought made him grin, amused by the whole situation.

He hadn't thought about her all that much during the week. As per usual, she was just a fleeting thought that would randomly appear in his head. But now, he had memories and he had her voice and he had her eyes all in his head. So, maybe she wasn't as fleeting a thought as before, maybe she lingered a little longer. But even still, Tommy had better things to think of.

It was that next performance when he caught himself thinking about her more than once. Because now she wasn't here. He thought it was dumb for him to get caught up thinking about the girl, but he couldn't help himself when he was back here again.

Tommy found himself wondering about her, about where she was now and what she was doing. At first, he wondered if she often goes out with friends or if she's more of a stay at home type. But suddenly, his thoughts turned to wondering if she was a top or a bottom. This, he decided, was a topic he preferred considering. There was the usual Tommy DeVito again, only caring about what women might be like in bed. And he decided he'd keep his thoughts that way.

* * *

**So, there's the first part! If you have any questions/comments/concerns, message or review, I'd love to hear back, especially since this fandom isn't very large, it's nice to interact with new people!**


	2. vii-x

**Okay so I wasn't planning on posting this today, but I got really excited because I found out the film cast was gonna be performing at the White House and I couldn't help myself. The next update may take a little longer (since I only have like 2 pages of it written right now), but I hope we can all enjoy this chapter and be a little patient. Maybe. We'll see.**

* * *

vii.

It was an impossibly early morning some time in early September when Tommy found himself stumbling into a diner. He didn't mean to be up so early at all, but sometime around 4 a.m. the girl he was with had kicked him out the door, saying something about not wanting to get caught. He could care less about it, but now he found himself too awake to go back home and fall asleep again. And he was getting hungry, so he said screw it and went to the nearest 24-hour diner.

When he entered the establishment, there were only about 4 other guests there, and maybe only 2 employees working (a cook stood at the kitchen window and a server had just disappeared into a back room). Tommy took a seat in a corner booth, taking a few moments to glance over the other occupants—they were all men, and they all looked as if they were trying to catch a meal before heading to work for the day.

Tommy's booth was close enough to the kitchen window that he could watch the cook, who currently wasn't working on anything. For a couple moments, the cook hadn't realized there was a new guest, and Tommy almost thought he'd have to yell to get the man's attention. But suddenly, they both made eye contact, and the cook perked up a little.

"Hey, Mar!" he called to somewhere in the back, "Marilyn, we got another customer!"

Tommy almost wanted to chuckle as he turned his gaze out the window—some fine customer service they had around here. The sun wouldn't be up for another hour or so, and the city was practically black, save for the streetlamps and the lights of the diner. A door had swung open right near him, and he could feel the waitress by his side.

"Sorry about that, sir, what can I do for ya?" The voice sounded friendly, but there was an edge to it that Tommy knew. A certain throatiness that made the voice sensual, and a certain harshness that made the voice cruel. And with a sudden realization, he looked up, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Well, hun, I've been wondering when I'd see you again."

And there stood the Airaldi girl—no, _Marilyn_—with a shocked, if not a little peeved, expression. Her eyes were a little wide and her mouth slightly agape, but quickly she gave an uneasy smile. It was fake, Tommy knew, but a part of him almost liked how difficult it was for her give him the smile. The two were silent for a few long moments, brown, amused eyes staring into green, irritated ones.

"So, Marilyn, how've ya been?" He was grinning at her, awaiting any kind of response from the stony woman.

She licked her lower lip, trying to maintain her friendly expression, "Just fine, sir, thank—"

"I like you callin' me sir." Tommy interrupted, his face becoming more smug as he could see the annoyance in her eyes. Marilyn took a deep breath before continuing.

"What can I get for you today?" She asked through tight lips. Tommy hadn't even looked at the menu that sat on the table, and he didn't want to bother.

"A coffee and whatever's good." He answered simply. For another moment, she stared at him, but quickly she shook her head and walked back toward the counter to talk to the cook.

vii.

She couldn't believe it. That dumb DeVito guy just had to show up at the diner while she was working the early morning shift. Just her luck.

After quickly getting a coffee for him, Marilyn went to disappear in the back room again, taking a few moments to groan out all her frustrations. She remembered seeing him the first time nearly two months ago; he was performing at a club she took to frequenting when she first moved to the area, and she had to admit the group was good. She wondered why they hadn't been performing there sooner.

Honestly, she didn't truly notice him at first. Sure, she saw him up there performing with the band, but she wasn't really watching the group to begin with. When she did actually notice him, she could tell he was an attractive guy, but she didn't think much about him beyond that.

And then she forgot about him, simple as that. If she was at the club, he wasn't, and she didn't care in the slightest.

Then she saw him again, and he saw her, and for a moment she felt _something_, though it wasn't even remotely romantic. But Marilyn knew there was something, even if for the briefest of moments.

And then there was that third time, and they actually talked, and it all came crashing down. A part of her didn't want to be so cold to him, but the smarter part continued to make her protect herself. So, she treated him just like she did every other man that approached her. She was blunt and a little rude, but she studied him the whole time, just like the rest. It was a cruel habit, really, but she would always study how the men would react to her behavior; and if she decided she liked their reaction, she'd find them later on. However, there were rarely any reactions that she liked. It was one big game that she played with all of them.

Marilyn didn't do relationships, hadn't had a boyfriend since she was sixteen. Five years she's been doing this—messing with men, then maybe hooking up with them. It wasn't the best routine, and her friends weren't fond of it, but she wasn't ready to change it. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready to actually let a man in again after what happened last time.

With a final, deep breath, Marilyn went back to work. She brought plates to the customers, refilled their coffee, cleaned up the tables. An easy routine to help her ignore Tommy. Or so she hoped. Her mind kept getting stuck on him, and she could feel whenever he stared at her back. It was distracting her from her work, and she didn't like it one bit.

After they had finally met, Marilyn thought maybe she could give him a go, but then she told herself otherwise. He walked the line of being an asshole, and he responded to her with the same level of snark that she had. Something about it nagged at her. She needed someone who was an idiot that she could drop after a couple days, and for some reason she felt like she wouldn't be able to just drop Tommy. If anything, she felt like he'd drop her first, and that was something she didn't like one bit.

viii.

After Tommy discovered where Marilyn worked, he initially thought maybe he'd start paying her more visits. Then, he kicked himself for the thought. A part of him just wanted to forget this girl, because all of this really wasn't worth his time. But then another part found some dumb pleasure in pestering her the way he was. So, maybe he'd stop by on occasion, and maybe he'd be lucky enough to show up when she was working. He just wouldn't put in too much effort to see her. Simple as that.

For another week or so, Tommy went on with his usual routine, and he hadn't seen Marilyn since that early morning. That was the first time he thought _"maybe I should stop by the diner again."_

But he didn't.

Another week and another performance at the same club. And, again, Marilyn wasn't there. Tommy acted like his typical self, and no one seemed to notice that sometimes his eyes would drift around looking for the woman.

One more week without seeing her. Tommy told himself he didn't care, but he did, if only a little. Mostly, he just wanted to have another squabble with her, get her glaring and frustrated. He was amused by it. And—though he didn't want to admit it—he wanted to hear her rough voice and see her green eyes again.

Eventually, Tommy wondered if maybe he was actually interested in this girl.

And then he laughed at how dumb that sounded.

ix.

Marilyn wasn't avoiding Tommy. No, she just had some kind of distorted luck on her side. Every time she stopped into her favorite club, he was never there. And every time she showed up to work, he wasn't there either. Maybe he forgot about her, decided she wasn't worth his time. She felt a little torn at that thought. Did she want him to forget about her? Yes. But did she want to see him again? Also yes. It was a difficult situation that she couldn't understand, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to understand either. So, she decided that she'd go on with her life, and if she encountered him again she'd see what happened (though, Marilyn would admit, she was afraid of what could potentially happen).

She caught her thoughts drifting back to him a little more than she would have cared for. It had been a while since a man managed to get stuck in her head like this, but something about that dumb Tommy DeVito captured her thoughts. And it's not as if the two had had any fun, enjoyable times together; they only ever butted heads.

Marilyn had yet to tell any friends about Tommy. In part, because she was certain at least one of them knew of him, and also because she was a little abashed at the situation—there was finally a man on her mind, and it just _had_ to be him. But she felt as if she needed to talk about it with someone. If she didn't, she'd only get more and more frustrated.

So, one Friday night when she had time off work, she told her closest friends. The group was actually at the club she first met Tommy at, but luckily he wasn't there tonight. The five girls were sat at Marilyn's favorite table, the one in the back corner, catching up with each other and telling jokes. Getting to see each other was becoming more and more rare for them—Marilyn worked full time, as did Julie and Maria, Abigail was a stay-at-home mom with two kids, and Rita just recently gave birth to her first child. There were very few opportunities for girl time. But, nonetheless, they cherished nights like this one.

For a while, Marilyn was holding back on sharing her dilemma; she was having doubts about letting the others know. It was dumb, really, to keep it from them, especially since it wasn't something to be embarrassed by, but she couldn't help but hesitate.

Finally, she saw her chance and—before she could doubt herself again—spoke up.

"I met a guy." She blurted out, and her eyes widened at the way she said it. Her friends looked to her, surprised looks on their faces.

"What, our little Marilyn finally dating again?" Abigail asked with a large smile, and she shared a laugh with the group.

"No, it's really not like that at all." Marilyn began to clarify. She took a deep breath as she recalled the past two and a half months, "We've only spoken twice, and we don't get along. But I can't get that asshole outta my head."

Maria gave her a questioning look, "What's so special 'bout him, then?"

"That's the thing, I don't know. He… it's dumb, but he's not like the other guys who just take my insults and leave. He throws it right back at me."

"You don't need a guy that's insulting you." Rita said simple as she sat up in her chair, "Hell, you don't need to be insulting all those guys."

Marilyn raised an eyebrow, "You know why I do. And I can't help it anymore, it's second nature or something."

"Well, I've told you to tone it down." The older woman replied. Rita, as the oldest, felt a certain responsibility over the girls, so she had a tendency to act as a motherly-type sometimes, though the others knew she did so with their best in mind.

"I'm trying."

"So, you two fight?" Abigail pipped up. Of the five (and most others they knew) she was the quietest, and sometimes people wondered why such a discreet, well-behaved rich girl hung out with them.

Marilyn waved her hand dismissively, "No, we don't fight, and he doesn't insult me. He just has a way of taking my insults and acting like they're nothing. He dishes out the same snideness as I give him."

"So he can handle you—that's good, yeah?"

"It should be, but… I don't do relationships, and I certainly don't want one with him."

"Then what do you want?" Marilyn and Rita stared at each other for a few long moments, the second with a raised eyebrow and a forthright look.

"I don't know."

The group was silent, all considering different angles on the situation.

"Who is he?" Julie lifted her drink.

Marilyn hesitated. If they knew him, what would they have to say? How would the direction of the conversation change? And what would they think of her?

"Tommy…" she glanced between the group, who leaned in a little closer, "DeVito."

Abigail looked clueless. Maria and Julie looked as if they recognized the name yet didn't know anything about him. But Rita's eyes immediately widened before they narrowed again. She let out a large sigh, "Of course it's Tommy; I shoulda known he'd be the one guy that could get to you."

"I'm not exactly happy with it either, ya know." Marilyn replied, "We met here more than a month ago, but we'd been eying each other for a month before that. Then he showed up at work two weeks ago. I'm drawn to him, even if I don't actually like him."

"Well, at least you don't like him." Rita said with a smirk, "Tommy DeVito is trouble, but I bet people are tellin' him the same thing about you."

"I hope so."

"So, what're you gonna do? I don't want you caught up on that asshole."

"Just sleep with him and get it over with." Abigail said, getting a surprised glance, "Look, that's what you do with every other guy—just treat him the same way."

"And don't let him get to you after." Rita added, pointing her finger, "I know a bit about Tommy, and he's not someone to stay involved with."

Marilyn ran a hand through her dark hair, letting out a sigh, "Maybe… but then it's like he won and got what he wanted."

Rita rolled her eyes, "Not everything's a competition, y'know. And besides, you're getting sex, so it's like you're winning too."

"That's one way to look at it." Marilyn responded with a small laugh and a grin. She then noticed that all her friends were looking back at her expectantly, and she realized she needed to make a decision.

x.

It was another Friday when Marilyn walked confidently into her favorite club. The last time she was here, she talked with the owner to discover what night the Variatones would be back, so here she was, prepared to face Tommy again.

She had arrived a little late, the band already up on stage and performing. For a brief few moments, Marilyn watched Tommy, wondering if he'd notice her. But his gaze never moved in her direction. So, she walked up to the bar and ordered a drink before turning around to continue watching him.

Honestly, Marilyn wasn't exactly sure what she planned to do. She knew she was going to talk to Tommy, but what direction would she take? She had talked some more with her friends about the situation, but the other four all had varying opinions, which didn't help much. However, it seemed like for the most part they wanted her to have sex and be done with him after that. Though it wasn't the best plan, it wasn't the worst either.

But she still had some deciding to do.

Marilyn had been lost in her thoughts long enough to realize Tommy was looking right at her. She hoped he hadn't been staring for a while. When he noticed she was aware of his gaze, he gave a wink (that somehow managed to seem mocking) before looking away. She continued to look at him for a couple moments, then decided it was better not to stare.

So, she waited till the end of their set, downing another two drinks along the way. As Marilyn waited, she thought about how she'd handle it once Tommy was done playing and approached her. Or how she'd handle it if maybe he didn't (though, honestly, she doubted he'd ignore her).

Sometime in that ten or fifteen minutes of waiting, Marilyn came as close to a conclusion as she could manage. As soon as the band started leaving the stage, she perked up a little, but hoped it went unnoticed. Her eyes followed Tommy until he disappeared down a hall leading to the club's dressing room, of sorts. He didn't look back once, and Marilyn was thankful for that, because she bet she looked like a dumb schoolgirl getting excited at the thought of talking to her crush. And she hasn't been that in years.

Marilyn turned back around to face the bartender, wondering whether or not she wanted another drink. But the reasonable part of her figured she was already a little tipsy and didn't want to be hungover in the morning. So, she just asked for a glass of water, paying the bill as she did so.

Marilyn realized that she felt jittery, like there was a slight nervous chill in her body. As she watched her fingers tap the wooden counter, she couldn't help but scoff at herself—why the hell should she be nervous right now? She was acting as if Tommy was somehow different from all the other guys.

But he was. In some stupid way, she knew he was different. Was he special? No, of course not. Yet Marilyn knew somehow that dumb man was something different.

Marilyn was so zoned out that she didn't realize someone had approached and was standing just behind her.

"What a coincidence seein' you here, hun." That familiar, cocky voice greeted. Marilyn couldn't stop the smile that crossed her lips, and she wanted to kick herself for it. But she composed herself, putting on a flirty grin as she turned in her seat. Her eyes quickly looked up to meet confident brown ones that gazed down at her with an intensity she didn't expect.

"Quite the coincidence, sweetheart." She replied sarcastically as she quirked an eyebrow.

"If I didn't know any betta' I'd think you were here to see me." Tommy continued.

Marilyn continued to look up at him with a flirtatious look in her eyes, "And what if I am?" Tommy's smirk grew a little wider as the two silently held eye contact. He wouldn't admit it, but he was suspicious—Marilyn was being too friendly. It wouldn't have bothered him if it was any other girl, but this is the woman whom, previously, acted as if she wanted nothing to do with him. And he wanted to know why.

Tommy licked his lip before continuing, "So, how'd we do up there?"

"Still nothin' special." Marilyn answered, though her tone wasn't serious like the first time she answered the question.

"Oh really? And I tried so hard this time to impress you." He joked. At that, Marilyn leaned in a little, eyes leaving his for a moment to glance at his lips.

"Try harder." Her voice was softer and—dare he say—seductive. Tommy was caught staring for a moment trying to figure it out. With a final, alluring grin, Marilyn stood, setting a small hand on his shoulder as she did so. And that touch was like a static shock between the two, thought she'd never admit that she nearly gasped at his warmth. "I have somewhere I need to be, sweetheart." Her hand slowly slid down his chest, eyes never leaving his, as she stepped to the side before walking for the exit.

Tommy wasn't gawking. At least, that's what he told himself. But he knew his jaw was a little slack as he watched her walk away. _What the hell was that?_ Was she actually just flirting? How was he supposed to respond to that?

At the opposite end of the bar, his bandmates were staring, Frankie in curiosity and Nick in shock. And all Tommy could do was stand there like a fool. What was his next move?

When Tommy turned to face the others, Nick raised both eyebrows as if saying _"did that really just happen?"_ The other man began to approach his band, confusion in his eyes.

"What the hell, Tommy?" Nick asked, "What did you do to get _that_ outta her?"

"What, you don't think my charms and good looks were enough?" Tommy answered sarcastically, though he was wondering the same thing.

"So, are ya gonna go after her?" Frankie pipped up, getting a confused look from the other two, "Come on, even _I_ know that those were sex eyes."

At that, Tommy grinned again. So he wasn't the only one that noticed, "Then I guess I better go find her."

Tommy turned around, starting for the door, "Aye, Tommy!" Nick got his attention, giving Tommy a grin (though he still remained both curious and suspicious). He was about to say something, but instead shook his head, "Just go before she changes her mind."

* * *

**Again, I'd love any feedback and reviews, they keep me going and make me want to write more and more! I hope you liked this installment!**


	3. xi-xv

**Guys, I'm sooo sorry about the wait for this chapter! I knew that it would take me a little longer, but I didn't expect all the writer's block I had. But it's finally here, and honestly it's a pretty damn good chapter if I do say so myself. And I believe it's the longest chapter too, which surprised me since I didn't expect to write so much. I hope it was worth the wait!**

* * *

xi.

Once Tommy was out the door, he looked both left and right for Marilyn. After a moment he spotted her, casually leaned against the wall smoking a cigarette. She had already taken notice of him, giving a smirk as he approached.

"Took you long enough." She teased, "Didn't think I'd be kept waiting."

"Yeah, yeah, my apologies." He rolled his eyes then watched as Marilyn took another long drag from her cigarette. Tommy felt frozen where he stood, though he wasn't sure why. She had already given him the green light, so he could be all over her right now if he wanted to. Yet, he still felt like he needed to ask permission, even if all he wanted was to touch her arm. It was odd and annoying, but Tommy decided he'd hold back until she did something else.

As she took a final drag, her eyes began to wander Tommy's face, taking in his expression and trying to figure it out. Marilyn tossed the bud somewhere to her left before licking her lips and taking a step closer.

"So, sweetheart…" She started, getting a grin from Tommy. Again, she set a hand on his shoulder, this time sliding it up to the back of his neck, "wanna get outta here?"

That's all it took for Tommy to smash his lips against hers. It was aggressive and sloppy, causing Marilyn to stumble back and use the wall as support. Feeling that he was in control, Tommy's hands started to roam over her body as their lips haphazardly moved together, trying to take in every inch of one another. Marilyn's fingers knitted into his hair frantically, tugging slightly, causing Tommy to groan in the back of his throat. He pressed his body firmly into Marilyn's as she leaned her back straight against the old brick wall, allow him to be as close as could be. Tommy felt his heart beating hurriedly as his mouth continued to move against Marilyn's.

Suddenly, Marilyn pulled back, getting a frown and a confused look from the man. She just grinned widely as she wiggled out of his hold and started pulling him to the parking lot, "Well, come on then…"

xii.

When Marilyn woke up the next day, she hadn't even realized it was morning at first—the room was practically pitch black thanks to the thick curtains over the window. She sat up groggily, eyes trying to adjust to the lack of light. As she shuffled around in bed, she remembered what happened the night before and reached out across the sheets until her hand made contact with Tommy's back. She grinned, letting her hand relish in his warmth for a moment. Last night was _good_. No, it was great. One of the best lays she'd had in a while. Marilyn knew she had lucked out with this guy.

After another minute, Marilyn tried looking for a clock or watch, but gave up because of the darkness. So instead, she slowly stood, stretching out her back and shoulders and groaning as she felt her muscles ache in protest. She started feeling around the floor for some kind of clothing, whether it was hers or Tommy's.

Finally, she found his shirt, pulling it over her shoulders as she shuffled for the door and exited the room. First, Marilyn stopped into the restroom, using the toilet, splashing water in her face, and then used some mouthwash to get rid of the gross morning breath in her mouth. Her make-up was smudged under both eyes, and Marilyn took a couple moments to make herself somewhat presentable.

She exited the bathroom, looking around Tommy's living room until her eyes fell on a clock that sat on a side table. 11:34 am. She didn't have anywhere to be until work tonight, so she felt in no rush to leave.

Marilyn was back in the bedroom, trying to be quiet as she closed the door and stepped with light feet.

"Where'd ya disappear to?" Tommy's groggy voice surprised her, causing Marilyn to gasp loudly and clench her fists. She heard a small chuckle from him and she scoffed as she removed the shirt and crawled back into the bed.

"Don't do that." She hissed while swatting his shoulder. Tommy grabbed hold of her hand, pulling her down so her face was centimeters from his, "Don't breathe on me with that morning breath." She teased.

"So many '_don't_'s this morning." Tommy mocked as he moved his hand to her thigh, fingers pressing firmly into her soft skin. He then pulled lightly on her leg until she was straddling him.

For a while the two laid in silence, listening to one another's breath and remembering the previous night.

"Worth the wait?" Tommy asked, causing Marilyn to raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Well ya had to wait two months to sleep with me; was it worth it?"

At that, Marilyn laughed, "Oh, shut up."

"Make me." He replied in a challenging tone, pressing himself more firmly into her.

"I know what you're trying to do…" Marilyn whispered huskily into his ear before her tongue swiped out to lick his earlobe, and Tommy sighed slightly at the contact.

"And is it working?"

In response, Marilyn pressed her lips firmly against his.

xiii.

A little more than a week later, Tommy found himself wondering what Marilyn was up to that evening. He told himself there was no harm in wanting to sleep with her again (because _damn_ was she good), though he knew his interest in her was about more than just sex. At this point, he gave up on trying to convince himself otherwise. However, he wouldn't ever say it out loud. He hated it enough when only he knew, but imagining if Nicky and anyone else in the neighborhood knew? That was just something he didn't want to deal with in the slightest.

He still wouldn't say he had feelings for Marilyn, though. Yes, she may be more than just one time casual sex, but she _was not_ a crush. She couldn't be. She was a fascinating woman that got his attention, plain and simple.

When Tommy noticed that he wondered about her, he decided to stop by that diner she worked at—it was his only way of finding her, really, aside from the club. So, he left his apartment and made the drive to the restaurant (though he almost forgot where the damn diner was since it wasn't in his familiar neighborhood).

Once he was finally inside, the first thing he noticed was that Marilyn was nowhere in sight. Tommy couldn't help the slight wave of disappointment as he checked the faces of each of the three waitresses. None of them were her. For a couple of moments, he stood there, deciding whether or not to leave. But then Tommy reasoned with himself—he already made the drive, might as well make it worth it.

So, he sat at the counter, picking up one of the menus and browsing it briefly. A blonde waitress (probably even younger than Marilyn) approached him, giving a bright smile as she pulled out her paper pad.

"Are you ready to order, sir?" The corner of Tommy's mouth quirked up slightly, recalling when Marilyn called him 'sir' and the joke he made. But Tommy shook it off and smiled at the girl.

"A coke and a cheeseburger." He answered simply, not really caring what he had to eat.

Once she had walked off, Tommy looked around the diner slowly—it was 7pm on a Friday night, so it was no surprise to him that the place was more crowded than his first visit. He couldn't help but be a little upset that none of the people here were Marilyn, though, "Snap the hell outta it, DeVito." he mumbled to himself, palm lightly thudding against the side of his head. How did he let her get in his head so damn often? A better question was, how did she manage it in the first place?

"Did you say something, sir?" The waitress from earlier asked as she set Tommy's drink in front of him. He glanced back up, staring into her eyes for a brief moment.

"Actually, do you happen to know Marilyn's work schedule?" At that, the waitress raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Marilyn's? Whose askin'?"

"A friend." The girl was suspicious—she knew enough about Marilyn personally to know she didn't tend to befriend men. And she knew Marilyn's reputation enough to know that, if a man was asking for her, she probably didn't want him to find her.

"I don't think I can give you her schedule."

She was about to walk away, but Tommy stuck out his hand, "Come on, at least tell me when she's workin' next. Or do ya got her number? Something?"

For a few long seconds, the waitress stared back at Tommy.

"If you were a friend, wouldn't you have her number?" Tommy couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Fine, you know what, I get it, she probably doesn't want random men askin' you about her. But I'm not random, I'm just a friend that happens to not have her number."

The waitress sighed as she thought it over—if she just told him Marilyn's next shift or two, the other woman could handle this stranger herself.

"I'll run to the back and find out." She answered simply and disappeared through the kitchen door, and Tommy couldn't help but grin slightly.

xiv.

Marilyn was just finishing her shift Sunday afternoon when Rita entered the dinner, smiling widely at her friend. The two quickly hugged before Rita sat at a booth and Marilyn walked into the back, removing her apron, unbuttoning the top two buttons of her dress, and taking down her hair. The two liked to try and meet for lunches at least once a week (though recently it's been more like two weeks since Rita's been busy with her daughter), and today they decided to keep it simple.

Marilyn walked back out to the front, letting the cook in the back know their usual orders before she sat across from her friend, who was currently holding her newborn daughter making incoherent noises to make the baby smile.

"How ya doing, Rita?" Marilyn asked, smiling down at the baby.

"Not terrible, last night I actually slept for maybe four hours in total." She joked as she set the child back in her stroller, "How've you been, I feel like it's been forever."

"Forever, two-and-a-half weeks. It's all the same." Marilyn laughed lightly, "I've been keeping busy; working a lot, got to see Maria a few days ago and Abby maybe a week ago. We all need to have another girls' night soon."

"I second that." Rita said with a smile, "I could use some time away from the house, I feel so cooped up now that I've had her." She nodded her head to the stroller where her daughter was currently starting to doze off.

"Honestly, I'm still surprised you ended up settling down and starting a family. I remember what you were like three years ago, saying you hated children." The pair shared a laugh.

"Shh, she might hear you." The older joked, "I'm not gonna lie, sometimes I'm surprised by it too. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Well good, it would probably be a bad time to change your mind." Another waitress came over with their drinks and meals, having a very brief conversation with Marilyn before walking away. For a minute, the two were silent as they started eating.

"So then, what's new?" Rita asked while lifting her cup. Marilyn opened her mouth, prepared to say something like "_nothing much_" until she remembered her night with Tommy just over a week ago. And she couldn't help the small smile that crossed her lips as she thought about it, though she wished Rita hadn't seen it, "Ooh, what's that smile for?"

"It's nothing." Marilyn immediately replied, quickly shoving a french fry into her mouth.

Rita mockingly laughed, "Pff, please, with that cute little smile? It was definitely something."

Marilyn hesitated, though she wasn't sure why; her friends already knew about Tommy, and they knew she was likely to sleep with him. So why was she suddenly so embarrassed to talk about it? Maybe because she was with Rita, and the other woman had a tendency to get very opinionated _very_ quickly.

As the bell on the door chimed, Marilyn licked her lips and sighed, "Okay, fine. You're right, it's definitely something…"

"You're stalling." Rita teased.

"Hush, I'm getting there. This was last Friday, on my night off, when I went back—"

"Well, hey there, hun." A man's voice greeted, causing both Marilyn and Rita to look up at Tommy, who stood a few feet away.

When he entered the diner, Tommy thought maybe he had missed Marilyn because he couldn't see her running around the restaurant. After looking over the tables twice did he realize she sat in one of the booths with a friend (which made him frown a little, because he wasn't thinking she'd be with anyone else). Seeing her friend made him hesitate, but he sucked it up, and approached anyway.

Marilyn recovered from her shock quickly, "Didn't expect to see you around here, sweetheart." She replied with a smirk.

"Maybe I just missed you." Tommy joked (though he knew it wasn't entirely so).

"Aw, I'm flattered; I knew you couldn't stay away." Marilyn dramatically placed a hand on her chest, tilting her chin slightly up. Rita watched the interaction with confusion and distaste—she was not at all expecting to see Tommy DeVito around, and she certainly didn't expect he and Marilyn to be flirting right in front of her face.

"You two are gonna make me puke." She said while looking down at her friend. That got the pair to look back at her.

"Sorry, would you rather I steal her and take this conversation elsewhere?" Tommy questioned mockingly.

"Yes please." Rita responded and looked into his eyes with a small glare.

"I'm gonna smack you both." Marilyn jumped in, "Rita, we'll be outside, I'll be back in a couple of minutes." The other woman let out a '_hmm_' as Marilyn stood, grabbing hold of Tommy's sleeve and pulling him out the front door. When they were finally outside and she turned around, Tommy was grinning largely, causing Marilyn to give his chest a slight hit, "Don't try starting things with my friends."

Tommy almost chuckled, "Come on, I didn't mean anything by it."

"It sounded like you did." Marilyn answered, though she couldn't help the small smile on her lips, "How'd you know I'd be at work today? Lucky guess?"

Tommy shrugged, "Just asked another waitress for your schedule, took a bit of pryin' though."

Marilyn's eyebrows furrowed slightly before her smile grew, "So you _did_ miss me."

"I wouldn't go that far." He responded, receiving a disbelieving look from the woman, "I just wanted to maybe see you again."

"That's kinda the same thing." She crossed her arms casually, "You can admit that you missed me."

"Only if you admit you missed me." Tommy replied quickly.

"But I'm not the one trying to visit you at work." Marilyn grinned largely, "So, you missed me, _sweetheart_."

Tommy stared down at her for a few moments, slightly chewing on the inside of his cheek. He didn't want to say that he missed her. He couldn't do it. What would she think? Or would she tell people? He couldn't let that happen.

"Well?" Marilyn took a step forward, now standing close enough that he could just barely feel her breath on his neck, and it almost made him shiver, "You missed me."

Tommy leaned his head down slightly, giving her a cocky grin, "The day you get me to admit to somethin' like that is the day I die."

Marilyn shrugged as she smirked back at him, "That can be arranged." Tommy couldn't help but smile as he took a step back.

"Sure it can…" He started to turn, as if he planned to walk away.

"Tommy, you stopped by for a reason." He halted looking over his shoulder at Marilyn's questioning face, "So, tell me why."

Tommy turned back around, then glanced back and forth quickly as if for some reason what he was about to say could get him in trouble, "You busy tonight?"

Marilyn smiled largely, a confident look in her eyes, "No; you got something in mind?"

"Come by my place later."

For a couple of moments, Marilyn tried to make it look like she had to think about his offer (though she already knew she'd say 'yes'). She didn't want Tommy thinking he already had her so willing to spend time with him. And she was still considering just how many more times she'd see Tommy before deciding she needed to move on. But this thought bothered her, though she chose to ignore it for now.

So, with a last smile, Marilyn started walking back to the diner doors, "I'll be there at eight."

xv.

Marilyn couldn't be sure what she got herself into. For weeks now, she and Tommy were spending nights together, and a part of her wondered if this was becoming something more than just casual sex. Granted, they only saw each other once, maybe twice, a week, and it's not as if they went out together (though they may happen to spot each other around town), but something about the whole situation was… different. She didn't give a single man that much attention, and she was certain Tommy didn't focus so long on one woman. It's not as if she intended to still be sleeping with Tommy for nearly a month, but somehow it happened and somehow she was still enjoying it.

Marily didn't want to admit it, but she felt like she may have been growing attached. She hated the feeling, so she tried ignoring it and brushing it off, but she just couldn't. And she hoped Tommy was suffering just as much as her.

After that day at the diner, Rita seemed to pay a little more attention to Marilyn—she was concerned for her friend, simply because she knew what Tommy was like. She tried to make more time to see Marilyn, ask her how she was doing and if she was taking care of herself. To say the least, it was growing more and more agitating to the younger woman. She, of course, appreciated the concern, but _damn it_ she was a grown woman and could sleep with whoever she wanted.

When she and her friends finally arranged to have another girls' night, all the women were questioning Marilyn about Tommy. (And she hadn't told anyone aside from Rita that she was continuing to see him, which means Rita had been spilling information to the others and this left Marilyn more than a little annoyed). Practically the whole night she kept getting questions and remarks from her friends, and, honestly, after only an hour all that Marilyn wanted was to go home and ignore everyone for a while.

At some point in the evening, she stood abruptly, stating that she needed to step outside for a smoke. Her friends protested, telling her that she was allowed to smoke inside, but Marilyn had waved them off and was already halfway to the door. Once the cool, fresh air hit her face, Marilyn sighed in relief—it was _so_ much quieter outside where there was no music and no people. Of course, after a few moments she wished she had grabbed her heavy jacket before walking out (it was early November after all, and any day now New Jersey was expecting to get it's first snow of the season). But she tried to ignore the goosebumps on her arms as she lit up a cigarette.

After a minute, the door to the restaurant opened and out walked Rita, carrying Marilyn's jacket in her hand. She stretched out her arm as Marilyn looked at her unhappily.

"Thought you'd probably want this." Rita said simply. After a moment, Marilyn took the jacket and immediately relished in the warmth of it. The pair were silent for a few moments as Rita lit up a cigarette of her own, "What's goin' on with you tonight?"

Marilyn sighed as she looked back at her friend, "What, ya don't know?" Rita looked her at blankly, "We've been here for—what, an hour—and all we've talked about is me sleepin' with Tommy. Not exactly something I wanted to discuss tonight, especially not with everyone around."

"Mar, we're concerned, that's all."

"_I don't care._" Marilyn said firmly, "I don't need everyone else questionin' my sex life, that's why I only talked to you about it."

For a few long moments, Rita stared at her friend, trying to think of the right thing to say, "I'm sorry I mentioned somethin' to them, I just thought maybe it'd be important for everyone to know."

"Why?" Marilyn practically glared as she took another long drag from her cigarette.

"Because this is Tommy DeVito ya're messin' around with, and he's not good news."

"And what's so bad about him? Since I've known 'im, he hasn't done anything dangerous or questionable."

"That you _know_ of." Rita answered quickly as she shook her head, "Marilyn, why are you defendin' this guy? If he's just supposed to be casual sex, why are you actin' like you care about him?"

"Because I _do_ care about him!" Marilyn raised her voice as she tossed the bud of her cigarette, "He… I consider him a friend."

Rita scoffed, "This guy mixes himself up with some bad people, and now you're sayin' he's a friend!? Look, I'm protective of ya, I can't help it, but I can only protect you so much before you're in too deep."

"Well, I don't need protection, and certainly not from _you_. I can look out for myself—I have for years. What makes you think I need you?"

The look in Rita's eyes nearly broke Marilyn's heart, but she was so worked up from the argument that she shook it off and continued to stand by what she said. For a few long moments, the two women looked at each other with a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Finally, Marilyn turned and started walking for the bus stop just down the road. She couldn't handle this right now, and all she wanted was to be away from everyone else.

* * *

**Sooo, how was that? Leave a review, I love hearing from y'all, it really encourages me to keep writing!**


	4. xvi-xxi

**Oh my god you guys, I'm sooo sorry about disappearing for 6+ months. My life just got incredibly hectic, and I completely stopped writing, not just this story but all of them. My schedule finally opened up again and I've been writing like crazy the last few days!**

**To me, this chapter feels a little different than the others, but I think that's due to my unexpected hiatus. Hopefully, it still blends well, though.**

* * *

xvi.

Tommy pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket as he walked through his small apartment, turning on a couple of lights along the way. He had just returned home from a night out with the guys, and was ready to turn in after a couple of smokes and a drink. Just as he had sat down and lit one up, there was a firm knocking on his door, causing Tommy to groan—who the hell would be coming by his place at this time anyway? For a moment, he considered ignoring it, but then the person was knocking again, this time even louder than before. So, Tommy stood and quickly made for the day, prepared to tell whoever was on the other side to just fuck off.

But when he threw open the door, he came face-to-face with Marilyn, who was shivering a little from the cold and panting as is if she was in some kind of a rush. They stared at each other for a few long moments, and Tommy noticed the anger behind her eyes. Was it directed at him? He hadn't done anything, at least not to his knowledge. But why else would she show up here like this?

Without a word, Marilyn brushed past him and into the apartment. Tommy was still frozen in surprise briefly, but finally shut and locked the front door before turning to the woman.

"What brings you here tonight, hun?" He asked, trying to lighten the tension in the room. But Marilyn's gaze was still harsh. The two, again, stared at each other silently, and Tommy couldn't seem to figure out the situation at all.

Finally, she spoke:

"Why do I always have people tellin' me you're bad news?" That's not what Marilyn actually wanted to talk about, but it was, at least, a start. Tommy tried to act confused (a part of him still was, though not by the question), "My friends always warn me about ya, Tommy, and I need to know why."

"And why is it even important? Why does it matter?" He questioned, eyes narrowing a little.

Marilyn sighed deeply, eyes never leaving his as she spoke firmly, "Because you're my friend, but if you're dangerous or your gonna get me into some kinda trouble, I may as well back out now before it's too late."

Tommy, for a moment, was surprised that she actually considered him a friend. Sure, she was friendly and flirty with him most of the time, but even still Marilyn was stand off-ish, and sometimes it was impossible to read her. He was also surprised by her tone—why was she so aggressive tonight?

"What's gotten into you?" He asked in a similar tone to hers as his voice rose, "Why are you angry with me? I haven't done shit to you, and I haven't done shit to deserve this!"

"I'm not angry with you!" Marilyn yelled back, taking a step closer. Briefly, Tommy suddenly saw hurt in the woman's eyes, "But you're avoiding my question, and that's scaring me."

The tension between them was thick, both staring sternly at the other. Tommy didn't know what to say, what to tell her. What he did when they weren't together was his business, not Marilyn's. And sure, she consider him to be a friend, but who says he thought the same of her? Who said she even mattered to him?

But a part of him knew. A part of Tommy knew that she was his friend, whether he'd admit to it or not. Granted, a friend that he slept with often (which was never a good idea, of that he was certain), but nonetheless, she was almost closer to him than some of the guys he'd known for years.

After a minute, Tommy groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"Fine okay, maybe I am bad news. I've got arrests under my belt, I've done time…" Marilyn's eyes wavered. A part of her, of course, wasn't surprised. But another part certainly wasn't ready to hear it, especially when those arrests could've been for a number of things, "I'm a thief, I sell stolen goods, I've broken into a lotta places, I borrow money from some bad people. But that don't mean I'm bad person."

Marilyn was quiet, unsure how to respond. So, he was a thief. It could be worse, she told herself. But, nonetheless, that does still mean he was a criminal.

'But isn't every other person around here?' she thought, trying to decide just how to respond to Tommy's confession. Marilyn knew a lot of people in this neighborhood were just like him, some even worse, but she never had the intentions of getting involved with someone like that. Did it change her perception of him? Maybe a little. Because, for all she knew, she could get unintentionally involved. Or Tommy could get himself into some serious trouble, which she didn't like the thought of at all. Marilyn felt like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Are ya gonna leave?" Tommy finally broke the silence, causing Marilyn's gaze to return to him, "Now that ya know everyone else was right about me, are you gonna pretend we neva' met?"

Marilyn frowned a little. What was she going to do? She was confused, she felt lost. Sure, she's had to deal with some tough stuff, but she never had to deal with this before.

"No…" she finally muttered, looking at the ground. Tommy had crossed his arms, watching her carefully with a furrowed brow. Marilyn thought about what she actually wanted to say to him, "You steal, yeah, but that doesn't make you a bad person." She reiterated his words back to him, "A lot of people do that…" She waited another beat before continuing,"And until you do something that could hurt me or one of my friends… I don't care what you do for money."

Tommy was shocked. That's not what he expected. He thought she'd tell him to get a real job, or to bother someone else, or something. But this? He wasn't ready for. And certainly not from Marilyn. He, once more, felt at a loss for words, and all he could do was stare into her inundated, green eyes.

xvii.

Marilyn was utterly surprised by herself. Was she really okay with all this? Was Tommy that important to her that she could overlook this? If she had discovered that Rita or Julie or any of her friends had a criminal record, would she have done the same thing?

Of course she would. They were more important to her than her family, and she wouldn't want to lose them for anything. And, now, Tommy was in that same category. Too important to lose.

She couldn't believe it. Marilyn finally admitted to herself that she cared about him. Tommy probably realized that too, and that scared her like nothing else she'd recently experienced. She felt vulnerable and a little weak, which a man hadn't made her feel in years.

Last time she had let a man get this close, she was sixteen and naive. She let an older guy convince her she mattered to him. She had herself convinced she was in love. But he hurt her, treated her like shit, and expected her never to leave. And she almost didn't. But when she did finally get out of it, Marilyn was a broken person. It took years for her to become this tough, no shit woman that she was, and now it felt as if she was becoming that weak teenager once more.

But Marilyn learned from her mistakes. She learned how to take care of herself, she learned who to trust and who to turn away. And Tommy should've been one of those people she pushed away, at least when they first met. But she couldn't. Tommy was more than she expected, and there was no getting rid of him now, not after they've become so close.

Of course, Marilyn was afraid, there was no denying that. She was afraid of getting hurt, but she was just as afraid of losing him. However, she was prepared to handle it like the tough bitch she was, of that she was certain.

xviii.

Marilyn had stayed the night.

After their little debacle, the defeated and broken aura around her made Tommy feel something akin to sadness. He wasn't sad for her, but he felt for her, and it made him realize that he cared just as much as she did.

'You're growing weak, DeVito.' he told himself as he sat silently in the living room, watching the clock as it approached 1 am. Marilyn had gone to bed hours prior, but Tommy couldn't sleep. How could he? He let very few people get close to him, and even then he treated some of them like shit (though he wouldn't admit to that), because that was his way of maintaining control, of both himself and of situations. Tommy Devito didn't need anyone.

But Marilyn? Well, he felt for her in a way he wasn't familiar with. Was it romantic? At this point, Tommy wasn't sure, he just couldn't tell. He didn't really know what romance felt like, it was something he managed to keep out of his life all these years, because he had no desire for it. He never had any intentions of letting Marilyn get so close to him. And yet, somewhere along the line, he started caring about her, and that became his downfall.

Finally, it was nearly 1:15, and Tommy stood. He needed rest. He hoped that maybe he could sleep some of this stress off.

When he finally crawled onto the mattress, Tommy found that Marilyn was curled up in the middle of the all the blankets on the bed, and he felt frozen for a moment as he thought back on the evening they just had.

With a final sigh, he lied down next to her and, against his better judgment, draped an arm around her waist, shifting closer in hopes of getting some decent sleep.

xix.

A few days later, Marilyn felt incredibly refreshed. That night with Tommy was a little stressful, yes, but all she needed was a bit of time and she was back to her usual self. She had yet to talk to Rita or Tommy again, mostly because she was afraid to have the conversations that would surely come up. She wasn't yet ready to deal with that kind of stress again. But she needed to talk to someone, that she knew. So, she decided to call Abigail.

Abigail was easily the sweetest of the group, and Marilyn never felt judged in her presence. And she had two kids that just made Marilyn's heart swell, because they were just as sweet as their mother. Sometimes, Marilyn felt like the woman was almost too good to be spending time with the kind of people she kept as friends.

Like Marilyn, Abigail wasn't from New Jersey. Marilyn came from Massachusetts, whereas Abigail was from New York, so the two were familiar with sometimes feeling out of place among others around the town. They were very different people, yet they got along very well. Somehow their opposing personalities meshed well.

Marilyn arrived to Abigail's home early in the afternoon. The family lived in a nice neighborhood, a place that almost felt too nice for Marilyn to be allowed in; they were all detached homes with beautiful, light exteriors and large grassy yards. The inside of Abigail's house was simple, but the furniture was, nonetheless, nicer than anything Marilyn ever owned. Anyone that met Abigail on the street would have never guessed she was a part of the upper class based just on personality alone (especially not with the friends she kept in her company); she was incredibly humble about it. If it was ever brought up, she would just talk proudly about her husband, who worked very hard to be able to provide such a life for his family.

Abigail and Marilyn were currently in the living room, with a view of the children running around in the backyard.

"What's happened the last few days?" Abigail asked in concern, "I only got to hear Rita's side of the story, and when I did hear it, she was still in a foul mood."

Marilyn sighed, "I just became overwhelmed with everyone's comments, ya know? I didn't want everyone talking about me as if I did something wrong, because I didn't. And I was upset with Rita, she told ya something I wasn't ready to tell anyone else."

Abigail nodded, stealing a look toward her kids, "I didn't know that. I don't think any of us knew Rita was spilling a secret."

"I don't think she knew, either." Marilyn added.

"It's just that we all tell each other everything, you know? She just wasn't thinking. And I know that she feels sorry for it, she's just too afraid of apologizing because she thinks you're still mad."

"A part of me is." Marilyn picked up her glass, taking a sip of it's contents, "Like you said, she wasn't thinking, so that pisses me off just a little. She cares, I get that, but I think she's going a little overboard."

Abigail chuckled, "You're telling me. The other day she was talking to me about how to take care of kids as if I didn't already have two of them." The pair shared a laugh, "Being a new mother is wearing her out, I can tell. That's probably why she's been acting so… over dramatic."

Marilyn hadn't considered that. Of course that's why Rita's been so overwhelming lately. That only eased Marilyn a little, though. She was still sour after their last interaction, and it would take a little longer for her to relax.

"Should I apologize to her?"

Abigail raised a thin eyebrow, "For what? You didn't do anything." She smiled gently, "Rita should apologize to you, plain and simple. Like I said, she's just not ready. I think it's because she's afraid of you." Again, the two snickered.

"Isn't everyone a little afraid of me?" It was more of a statement than a question—Marilyn had always tried to intimidate people, probably because she felt so small and vulnerable for so long.

"I think most people probably are."

"Are you?" Marilyn asked curiously, causing Abigail to giggle.

"I can tell you're too much of a softy under that tough shell of yours." The response caused Marilyn to smile brightly at her friend, feeling a little better with how her day was going.

xx.

Tommy was with Nick, going through a new container of jewelry they just got in that night; it was full of primarily pearls, making him a little annoyed. It was always pearls, when were they going to get some variety in here?

Tommy hadn't told Nick (or anyone else, for that matter) about everything going on with Marilyn. For the last month and a half, he had them all convinced he slept with her once and that was the end of it. For whatever reason, he just couldn't bring himself to let them in on the full truth of the situation. Was he embarrassed? Certainly not of Marilyn. But he was embarrassed by himself. By the fact that he was different with her than with any other girl. By the fact that he was the guy who laughed at others for this kind of shit.

Luckily for him, no one asked about Marilyn. Everyone knew the kind of guy Tommy was (or they thought they knew), so they didn't bother with it. They assumed she was nothing special, just like every other girl he slept with. And, for a while, Tommy wanted to keep it that way. But every now and again, he'd catch himself about to say something about her, and then holding his tongue in fear of what the guys would say. It was beginning to really bother him.

"Hey, Nicky," he spoke before he could catch himself. Nick glanced up questioningly, and Tommy realized he had no idea what to say. After a couple awkward moments, he said the first thing that came to mind, "How's your family?"

Nick was obviously confused—he knew Tommy didn't give two fucks about Nick's parents or siblings, "They're fine. Now what'd ya really wanna talk about, Tommy?"

Tommy mentally kicked himself. Of course Nick knew something was up. He was being stupid.

"And that girl o' yours, how's she?"

Nick rolled his eyes, "Tommy, come on."

They were silent for a long time, and eventually Nick went back to organizing shelves of products, waiting for Tommy to be the one to break the silence. But Tommy just wasn't ready to talk, because he had no idea what the hell to even say. So, they continued on in silence, and Tommy wondered if he'd ever be ready to talk to anyone about Marilyn.

xxi.

Tommy returned home that night to find Marilyn sitting in front of his door, cigarette in hand. He was confused at first (because last time he saw her, he thought she was going to start something with him), but sighed once she looked up with an innocent expression.

"We really need ta start coordinating schedules." She said simply. Tommy offered a hand to help her up, but she stood on her own as he unlocked the door, "Tried calling, but when you didn't answer I said 'fuck it' and decided to come over and wait."

"Maybe you need a key." Tommy replied jokingly, though for a brief moment both he and Marilyn wondered if there was any truth to it, "Why ya here, anyway?"

She shrugged, "Wanted to see you."

"So, ya missed me." Tommy smirked slightly, "You can't just show up here whenever ya want, ya know, I'm out a lot."

"Yeah, yeah, but my place gets unbearable, especially with those stupid roommates I have." Tommy had never seen Marilyn's place. Hell, he didn't even know she lived with roommates. It made him realize just how little they actually learned about each other in all the time they spent together.

"What about ya other friends?"

It's not that Tommy didn't want to see Marilyn (it was quite the opposite), but he hadn't been prepared to see her sitting on his doorstep, that's for sure. Tommy hoped she didn't assume she was unwanted here.

"Busy, they actually have lives." She replied with a small grin.

Tommy looked amused, "Oh, and I don't?" Marilyn just shook her head as she sat on his couch. Tommy continued to grin at her before going to the kitchen to grab two beers, "But what's that say about you, hangin' around with a deadbeat like me?"

"It says that I feel bad for you and, like the incredibly charitable person I am, have been gracious enough to give you something to do with your day." Tommy laughed as he sat beside her.

"Keep tellin' yourself that, hun." He handed Marilyn one of the two drinks, and for a minute they sat in companionable silence, "So, ya just here to… hang out, then?"

Marilyn deadpanned, "No, I came here to start plotting my world domination." The sarcasm in her tone made Tommy grin widely.

"Well, someone's particularly snippy today." Marilyn looked toward Tommy fondly.

"I just like giving you shit." She replied, "And I know you can handle it, sweetheart."

"I can definitely handle you, hun." Tommy replied with a wink, causing Marilyn to smirk, "I'm not so sure if you can handle me, though."

"Oh, is that so?" She perked up a little, a glint of mischief in her eyes as she set down her drink, "I think I can more than handle you."

"You're gonna have to prove that." Tommy similarly set his drink on the table, giving his complete attention to the woman beside.

"And how do you suppose I should do that?" Marilyn inched a little closer, voice growing huskier, and Tommy's grin only grew.

Tommy reach for her, setting a hand on her thigh and slowly moving the material of her skirt, "You'll just have to figure that one out…"

* * *

**I hope this chapter was a good return from the hiatus. As always, leave a review if you can!**


	5. xxii-xxviii

**Whaaat, I actually made two posts within a week of each other? It's practically unheard of.**

**So, this chapter kinda took the story in a different direction than I had intended. I was never sure how long it would be or how it would end, but I think I have the plot a little more figured out now. I still feel like you can see the change in writing style compared to other chapters, but maybe that's just me.**

* * *

xxii.

When Marilyn agreed to meet with Rita a week later, she was nervous. How couldn't she be, after the way they left things off? She almost wanted to say no and just pretend they mended everything, but she knew things would only become more uncomfortable between them.

So, she arrived at a park, maybe five minutes from Rita's home. The older woman was already there, her husband and child with her at a picnic table. Marilyn let out a sigh, but pulled herself together before she approached.

Once Rita set eyes on Marilyn, she immediately looked back to her husband, asking him to give them some time. So he lifted their daughter and began walking around the park.

"Thanks for coming." Rita said stiffly as the other woman took a seat, "I thought you'd probably just say no and continue ignoring me."

Marilyn sighed again, "A part of me wanted to, but that wouldn't really get us anywhere."

For a few long moments, the two sat in an uncomfortable silence, Marilyn waiting while Rita tried to figure out what to say.

"I… I know what I did was frustrating," the older woman finally said, "I know it made ya angry and I know it was poor behavior on my part." Marilyn simply gave a nod as Rita continued, "So… I'm sorry, sincerely. I have an opinion of Tommy, but I could've handled the situation better. I wanted to look out for you, that's all."

"Rita, I get that," Marilyn started, "but like I've said before, I'm an adult, the same as you. I can make these decisions on my own." It was still a little evident in Rita's expression that she disagreed with Marilyn on the man in question, "I know what I'm getting myself into, alright? And if I ever feel like I need someone's help, I'll come to you first."

Rita gave a small smile as her gaze turned down, "I just hope it doesn't get to a point where ya need help. I don't want anything bad happenin' to ya."

"I won't let that happen." Marilyn replied, returning Rita's smile. Both of them were still uneasy, but they were making progress.

xxiii.

When Tommy received a call from jail one night, he was surprised—wasn't he usually the one making these sort of phone calls? It was his brother, Nicky, saying he got busted for theft, and it was connected to their collection of stolen goods. For a moment, Tommy panicked briefly, thinking they'd come after him next; sure, he'd been arrested a number of times before, but that didn't mean he had any intentions of going back to jail now.

But Nicky reassured him he wouldn't be ratted out. And Tommy hoped Nicky would stick to his word. Nicky insisted, though, that Tommy cool it and lay low for a bit, until it all blew over.

Nonetheless, Tommy felt as if he'd be a sitting duck, just waiting for the cops to show up at his door.

xxiv.

Marilyn arrived to Tommy's apartment at about nine pm, having just gotten off of her night shift a half hour before. She was still in uniform without a change of clothes, but she'd return to work the next day at noon, so it didn't really matter much.

She didn't expect to find Tommy in a state of distress, though. His brow was slightly wrinkled in thought as he answered the door, and even when the two went to sit on the couch, he had a distant look on his face. Marilyn watched him for a few minutes, his expression hardly changing. When she was just about to ask what was going on, he spoke up.

"Wanna go for a walk?" Marilyn gave him a puzzled look.

"Tommy, it's getting late and it's freezing out there." He finally gazed at her, "Why would you want to go on a walk at this hour?"

"Needa clear my head." Again, Marilyn looked confused.

"Care to tell me why?" Tommy stayed silent, "Fine, if you don't want to talk about it…"

The two sat in a stiff silence, Marilyn waiting for the man to speak (though a part of her knew he wouldn't). She hadn't ever seen him like this before, making her incredibly curious about what could've happened before she arrived, "Tommy, come on."

He look back toward the woman, but his eyes looked both stubborn and upset, and it made Marilyn wonder if it had anything to do with her. Tommy remained quiet as she tried to read the man, but she couldn't figure him out.

"My idiot brother got himself arrested. Again." He finally said, and suddenly everything was pouring out of him, "He got caught stealing for our collection, and of course he says he won't give me or the others up, but how am I supposed to fucking know whether or not he's not gonna be stupid?" Tommy stood now and was pacing the room, "He could give us up tonight or when they take him to court, I don't fuckin' know. He told me to lay low, but that isn't so reassuring when the cops know I have a track record. They could come after me just knowing I'm that idiot's brother." His voice had gotten progressively louder, and it made Marilyn look at him in surprise.

"I don't think that's gonna happen." She said simply, causing Tommy to look at her in surprise.

"Oh, you don't, huh?"

Marilyn simply shook her head, "Has he ever given you up before?"

"No," Tommy started, "but maybe he's finally fed up, maybe this is the time he finally does."

"You probably say that to yourself every time he gets caught." Marilyn gave a small, reassuring grin, "He said he wouldn't, so he won't."

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek while shaking his head, "He was always the weaker of the two of us, ya know; this could finally be his breaking point."

Marilyn, again, shook her head and rolled her eyes, "Tommy, just relax, would ya? Have a little faith in him. I don't even know the guy and I trust him more than you do."

"And you're wrong to trust a guy you don't know." Tommy replied simply as he pointed at her.

"Maybe I am," Marilyn stood and approached Tommy, who still gazed at her with doubt and some frustration, "but right now, all of your stupid 'what if's don't matter."

"Oh, calling me stupid, how charming." Tommy couldn't help the sarcasm and amusement, causing Marilyn to smile.

"I've always been quite the charmer." She replied as she looked up at him, "That's why we're friends, I entranced you."

Tommy scoffed, grinning widely, "Sure, sure—you keep thinkin' that."

Tommy, of course, was still a little stressed over his brother, how couldn't he be? But at least Marilyn was doing her best to try to distract him.

She leaned in toward him a little, eyes slightly lidded, "Now…" She started, getting Tommy's full attention. He smirked, raising an eyebrow as he watched her carefully, "I'm going to bed."

And with that, she turned and walked for the bedroom, causing Tommy to groan loudly in annoyance as she simply giggled.

xxv.

At the beginning of December, Marilyn got a call from her mother, which made her anxious. Since she left home at seventeen, they had a very rocky relationship. Especially since her parents were still friends with her first (and only) boyfriend, a man who controlled and ruined her life for some years. No matter what she told her family, they didn't listen to or believe her, probably because this man told they some completely different story. Why her parents would believe him over Marilyn, she wasn't sure. But it pissed her off like nothing else.

So, when her roommate handed off the phone, Marilyn felt frozen at the sound of her mother's voice. She felt like she couldn't speak, or even think for that matter. Hell, she couldn't even understand what her mother was saying.

"_Marilyn, are you even listening to me?_" She finally heard that, though.

She breathed deeply for a few seconds, trying to collect herself, "No, no I wasn't." Marilyn could hear her mother's frustrated sigh on the other end.

"_Well, pay attention, this is important._" Marilyn glared at the wall, wondering what could possibly matter that much, "_We'd like to spend the holidays with you._"

Marilyn laughed. She didn't even stop herself as she let out an annoyed laugh, and she could only wonder how her mother felt about it, "I haven't seen you in four years—what makes you think I want to see you now?"

Her mother's tone was irritated, "_Let's try to act like adults, Marilyn._" She couldn't help but roll her eyes, "_You're our only child, we want to have a relationship with you. We want to be able to know our future grandchildren._"

"Who says I plan on having kids?" She retorted.

"_Jonathan still talks about you when we see him._" Marilyn's breath was a little shaky, and all she wanted was to hang up.

"Jonathan is an ass and not worth my time." Her mother scoffed.

"_Will you stop being so dramatic? God, you still act like such a child._" Marilyn was silent for a few moments, trying to relax, "_Now, we would really appreciate if you came to visit for Christmas and maybe the New Year._"

Marilyn remained silent; she couldn't come up with a response, any reason not to go. Of course, she could just say 'no' and be done with it, but her mother would still call and try to persuade her.

"I already have plans."

Her mother scoffed, "_With who, your friends? I'd think family was more important than them._"

"No, mom, with my boyfriend." It left her mouth before she could think about it. Marilyn was, at first surprised at herself. But then, she realized, something like that would piss her mother off like nothing else, especially since the older woman was, somehow, still convinced she would be with Jonathan again. So, it looked like she'd just have to roll with it now.

"_Boyfriend, huh? Some kid from Jersey?_" Her parents were never happy that Marilyn chose to go to New Jersey, they looked down on the people and the area. But they were snobbish and rude, the response didn't surprise her.

"He's not just 'some kid'."

Her mother was silent for a brief few moments, and Marilyn wondered if she had won for now.

"_Why not bring him here with you?_" Her mother still sounded upset.

"Because we have plans here."

"_Then maybe we'll just come to you._" She said it so quickly, it left Marilyn surprised.

"Just leave me alone, alright, there's a reason I haven't seen you in years."

"_Fine, if that's how you're going to be._" And with that, her mother hung up the phone. Marilyn was glued to her spot for a few moments until she finally managed to set down the receiver. Even then, she stood still, feeling shaken by the conversation.

What the _fuck_ just happened?

xxvi.

Marilyn decided not to tell anyone about the phone call. It still had her worried, thinking that she'd get more calls, but for a week she didn't hear from her parents again. Christmas, however, was drawing closer, and she still had an odd, nagging feeling, as if any second her parents or Jonathan would show up at her doorstep.

She and her friends managed to make plans again, and when they were out one night Abigail announced that she was having a holiday party on Christmas Eve. She knew everyone usually had plans with their families on Christmas Day, but she liked having them all together for the holidays. Abigail also insisted all the girls bring their husbands, boyfriends, and families, saying her husband had started to put together a big list of his friends as well. Apparently, a lot of people were invited, much to Marilyn's dismay. But, nonetheless, it was something to actually do for Christmas that didn't consist of her sitting on the couch all day. So, she agreed to be there.

Briefly, she wondered whether or not to invite Tommy. Of course, after a moment she thought it silly, but she couldn't help but want him there just a little.

No, she shouldn't. Marilyn knew he'd probably laugh about it, mock her about asking him on a date. He probably had plans with his friends anyway. The free booze probably wouldn't even convince him to go. Besides, maybe she'd meet a couple of fun and easy guys that night.

But that thought bothered Marilyn for some reason. Since Tommy, she hadn't actually slept with anyone else. For the last two or three months, whenever she was in the mood, it was always Tommy. She hadn't tried to get with other guys since.

What did it say about her? That she was smart and wasn't sleeping around like crazy? Yes. But did it have more to do with Tommy than that? She had never really thought about it before, but maybe she felt like, somehow, she'd hurt him if she was still hooking up with other guys. That, she realized, was a definite possibility.

But then again, was Tommy sleeping with other girls? Marilyn had no idea, because it's not as if it's a topic the two ever discussed. The thought of it bothered her, though, made her upset somehow. It was silly, she thought, but at this point they were too close for it not to bother her. Marilyn wasn't sure if she even wanted to know if Tommy was ever seeing someone else.

Marilyn knew, though she never wanted to admit it, that she had feelings for Tommy. It was too damn obvious, and yet she still acted as if they were only friends. Having feelings for someone like him wasn't in her best interest. It didn't matter how close they were or how well they got along, Marilyn knew Tommy didn't do relationships. Hell, he'd probably start avoiding her if she ever told him.

So, she'd keep it to herself. It was a bit like torture, but what else could Marilyn do? She'd rather have Tommy as her friend then not have him at all.

xxvii.

Tommy wasn't very fond of the holidays. His family didn't celebrate much when he was growing up, so he never took to it. And he definitely wasn't the gift giving type. So, as everyone was frantically trying to get ready for Christmas, Tommy was spending his days as he usually does, as if nothing important ever happened.

So, when Marilyn mentioned her friend's Christmas party, he was surprised a little that she actually celebrated too. Maybe he thought he had found a kindred spirit, so he just assumed she wasn't a fan of holidays either. Marilyn did admit she didn't celebrated often, but if she was invited by friends then she might as well go.

"Do you have holiday plans, Tommy?" She asked as they were leaving the diner one night. She hadn't seen Tommy in nearly two weeks, so it was refreshing to spend time with him again.

He laughed, "Holidays and me don't get along."

"So, I take it that's a no?" Tommy gave a nod. The pair were quiet for a few moments as they got in the car and started driving back to Tommy's place. It was a silent agreement that she could stay the night with him every now and again, whenever the two would be up late together. Something about it felt a little domestic to Marilyn, though she wouldn't say anything on it.

"Why's it matter?" Tommy asked with a raised eyebrow, "Got somethin' in mind?"

Marilyn was a little nervous, something she wasn't all that used to, "I was gonna say, if you're up for it you can go to my friend's party."

"And why would I wanna do that?" Again, Tommy looked confused and curious.

"I dunno, maybe just to socialize and get out a bit?" She shrugged, "Tommy, it's just a suggestion."

He was quiet for a few moments, "Do you want me to go with ya?" Marilyn's chest tightened a little.

"Well, it could be fun…"

Then, Tommy grinned, "You askin' me on a date, hun?"

Marilyn rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder lightly, trying to play off her nerves, "If that's how you wanna look at it, sweetheart."

"I'll think about it." Marilyn gave him a bright smile, "Hey, don't get ya hopes up. I dunno how well you friends will take to me."

xxviii.

A week before Christmas, Marilyn returned home and was told by her roommate that her family called again. Marilyn groaned, wanting to ignore it. But the roommate said they were waiting for her to call back, said they had something important to talk about. Of course, Marilyn doubted it was anything important to her, but she knew they'd keep calling if she didn't respond.

So, she picked up the phone and dialled. It was her father who answered the phone, and his tone was just like her mother's.

"_You're mother wanted to talk to you._" He said simply at the sound of his daughter's voice.

"So I was told."

A few moments later, Marilyn's mom was on the phone, "_Now, Marilyn, I know you said you have plans for Christmas, though I still doubt they're all that important—_" Marilyn rolled her eyes, "_but we still want to see you._"

"Why? Why do you suddenly want to be a part of my life again?"

"_Well, if you must know, it was per Jonathan's suggestion._" Marilyn's expression became worried, "_He thinks we need to start acting like a family again, and I think it's a fantastic idea._"

"I don't want anything to do with him ever again. If it was his idea, then it's a bad idea." Marilyn replied firmly.

"_Whether you like it or not, we've all decided to come visit you on Christmas._"

Marilyn's brow wrinkled, "'All'? Who?"

"_Your father, Jonathan, and I._" Marilyn lost her grip on the phone and was frozen for a few long moments before she picked it off the ground. Her eyes had widened, and suddenly she felt as if she couldn't speak.

Jonathan. That bastard was going to be here. He just couldn't stand for her to be living her life without him. And he dragged her parents right into it. She felt panicky, her mind and heart racing. Marilyn didn't know how she'd do this. She avoided him for so long, and suddenly he was trying to force himself back in.

Marilyn could hear her mother's voice,though she had stopped listening. She caught a word here or there about how they wanted to spend the day, but she just couldn't handle it anymore. So, she hung up.

And all she wanted right now was to go find Tommy.

* * *

**Okay, so I'm pretty sure the next chapter is gonna be awesome. I can feel it. I hope I can have it ready in a week, but we'll see. Leave some reviews, let me know how you liked it!**


End file.
